


23H

by natcsharomanova



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Based on a Tumblr Post, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hacking, Misunderstandings, Not How Planes Work, Starbucks, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-07-16 20:31:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7283614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natcsharomanova/pseuds/natcsharomanova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity takes advantage of the in-flight communication systems, finding a welcome distraction in one OQ of seat 23J.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse the way Oliver speaks as if he is in a Jane Austen novel; I'm working on that! Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> EDIT: Hi new reader! Since writing this it's been pointed out to me that I messed up the layout of airplanes. To those who were confused by it, my apologies! And to avoid further confusion, I didn't realise that 23H (Felicity's seat) and 23J (Oliver's seat) would be next to each other, as I thought they'd be different rows. Basically, in this fic, they can't see each other, and are a few rows apart. Sorry again for the confusion, and I hope you enjoy the fic regardless!

↣

Felicity wasn’t sure why she decided to use the in-flight communications system that was, quite frankly, an _insult_ \- when the airline said it allowed technological communication in the air she thought it meant she could access the internet to get up pictures of motivational cats as she recomposed drafts on her laptop whilst thirty five thousand fraking feet in the air; but no, instead there she was on seat 23H trying not to grab the middle aged man in the seat next to her as the plane made _that noise again that is definitely not normal ohgodohgodohgod_.

Point is, she used it. She logged in with the name ‘Pilot’ because humour is her coping mechanism, okay? And she needed to indulge in her gallows humour because yep, plane moving faster than can possibly be controlled; she was going to die at the hands of a computer system and if that isn’t a stab in the back then what is?

Not that she was scared of flying. At all. In any way. Because she wasn’t. But if typing out messages into the void in a plane chat room (which was glorified advertisement if) anything helped even out her breathing even the slightest, then she wasn’t going to complain.

 **Pilot | 23H says**  
gonna take off soon. psyched.  
  
**OQ | 23J says**  
I’m not entirely sure the pilot should be sitting in 23H

 **Pilot | 23H says**  
just kicking it with my p-gers  
that’s what i call the passengers

↣

Oliver couldn’t help it; he laughed. Why he responded to the stranger - and likely the only person indulging in the chat room instead of taking advantage of the myriad of films the flight offered - was a mystery also; but if anyone were to suggest it had something to do with the way planes (despite being a fixture in his life since the age of three; an unavoidable fixture when your parents insisted private jet was a necessary mode of travel in completely unnecessary circumstances) made his thumb reflexively rub against his index finger, he might be hesitant in denying it.

He was glad he answered though - the Pilot, whoever they were, helped still his fidgeting hands and allowed him to smile, even when the plane was speeding down the tarmac and _yep, okay now it’s tilting_.

 **Pilot | 23H says**  
don’t get scared homies  
nothing to fear i’ve been told that these noises are completely normal even if they do sound like maybe there’s a bird in the engine inconveniencing our journey and our lives : )

 **OQ | 23J says**  
That’s completely and utterly reassuring  
Thank you for your truly spectacular take off, Sir

 **Pilot | 23H says**  
oh so just because i’m pretending to be a pilor i have to be mele? How presumtioss and rusw

 **OQ | 23J says**  
I’d apologise but I’m not entirely sure what you wrote just then  
But also – pretending?! Don’t do this to me

 **Pilot | 23H says**  
sorry the plane did that creak think did you hear that????? my fingers reacted horribly because they have a mind of their own when i’m terrified apparently which is strange because not to brag or anything but i have got magic fingers, like you wouldn’t believe  
BY THAT I MEAN I AM REALLY GOOD AT TECHNOLOGY AND WIRING AND THINGS THAT REQUIRE STEADY AND CONTROLLED FINGERS  
CONTEXT IS SO IMPORTANT  
oh my god you’re a small innocent child okay time to stop using this thank you and goodnight

↣

Felicity was torn between being ecstatic and slightly afraid when the seat-belt light went off and an air hostess began to walk down the aisles towards her seat -- because on the one hand, she could seriously go for one of their (again, insulting) tiny wines; but on the other hand, she isn’t entirely sure that she’s not about to get told off for abusing the plane’s family-friendly chat room with her inappropriate babbles which, she was glad to know, couldn’t even be thwarted by the fact that she wasn’t speaking out loud to anyone.

So much for that last thought - the man in the seat next to her (who had been sleeping since the minute he sat down, the lucky bastard) abruptly snapped his head towards her, his beady eyes springing open to deliver her what would be an incredibly intimidating death glare if she wasn’t already preoccupied with wondering how exactly she could get punished for ruining the mind of an innocent in British airspace.

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t been speaking in her mind after all. Luckily a wince and a whispered sorry was all it took for the man to sink back into oblivion, and suddenly Felicity was overwhelmed with gratitude that he was not a more curious being. The air hostess finally reached them - Felicity got her wine, and the woman continued down the aisles.

She let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, reaching down for her carry on bag to get out a book or something else to distract her that was less public than an in-flight chat room; when a buzz of the console -- which, okay, maybe shouldn’t have been put between her legs -- caused the red liquid to slosh over slightly and make her cute panda flats more gory than they initially had been. If the journey wasn’t already off to a bad start, then cute animal shoes beginning to look like they’d walked into someone’s knife several times would certainly do the trick.

**OQ | 23J has invited you into a private chat room**

**OQ | 23J says**  
Don’t panic, I’m not an innocent child. Simply an incredibly amused adult

 **Pilot | 23H says**  
as pleased as i am that i am safe from angry parents, are you aware how creepy ‘has invited you into a private chat room’ sounds because for all you know ~i~ could be an innocent child and you could be bordering very dangerous territories

 **OQ | 23J says**  
In all fairness I did not mean to be creepy – and this likely won’t help my case, but I know beyond a reasonable doubt that you’re either a sleeping middle aged man or a ‘frazzled but very cute blonde’, but most importantly, not a small child

 **Pilot | 23H says**  
?!

 **OQ | 23J says**  
My sister’s words, not mine She went to go to the bathroom and I maybe asked her to check who’s sitting in seat 23H

 **Pilot | 23H says**  
well in that case tell her i’m flattered and that her brother is slightly creepy but also a great distraction to the fact that we’re sososo fraking high in the air right now

 **OQ | 23J says**  
Wouldn’t think a pilot would have a fear of hights, exactly  
And you’re quite a good distraction also. It’s quite remarkable

The smile that appeared on her features was entirely involuntary but definitely welcome - and if it wasn’t for the fact that she was still unsure as to how safe it would be for her to take off her seat belt when they’d barely been cruising for 20 minutes - though, now she thought about it, she was a lot calmer than she usually would be - then Felicity would not have been able to stop herself from marching over to seat 23J and putting a face to the seat number.

 **Pilot | 23H** **says**  
thank you for remarking on it : )


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the plane has to make an emergency landing, Felicity amuses herself with yet another anonymous interaction with a stranger in the airport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, like the last, is based off an online post (creativity at its finest !!). It also would not have been written if it wasn't for the fact that I received such kind comments on the last, which really encouraged this because ah it made very big smiles, so thank you for that! :)

Felicity was not a bitter person - usually. Yes, she had her moments; she would say things she regretted to her mother when she was left home alone, whilst Donna worked more than a fair share of shifts to pay the bills; she would go against her girl-power principles to send evil eyes to the women boys broke up with her for; she once replaced a peer’s class notes with audio files of porcupine farts (not her finest work, admittedly) when he attempted to plagiarise her dissertation idea. But all of these, she likes to believe, are just human nature, because Felicity herself is not an unforgiving person.

That being said, when her _(almost-finished-nine-hour)_ flight had to make an emergency landing three hours away from Starling City because a passenger mistakenly mixed their prescribed medication and the plane’s alcohol service, her morals were tempted to temporarily leave her body in exchange for a much saltier version of herself.

Being stranded in the Starbucks of an airport, which was far too vague as to when they would be taking off again, did have its upsides however -- now connected to the free wifi service (and using her personal skill sets to avoid the one-hour time limit; something Felicity viewed as entirely fair since she was the one being inconvenienced and _entirely un-bitter about it_ ) she could finally work on composing her drafts for work. She even got to a chance recaffeinate as she did so.

Another very welcome bonus was _him_. The man she was fairly certain she saw (and with those muscles, even someone with her eyesight couldn’t miss him) before boarding back in London. The man who held his cup as if it was the sole reason for his existence and _help her Google if she couldn't relate to that_. The man who was looking a whole lot less subtle about being bitter - brooding eyes which conveyed emotion that even Felicity sitting several tables away was drawn to, a large hand frequently being raised to move across the scruff on his jawline (scruff that made Felicity’s face flush at the mere unprecedented thought of what mark it could leave on the fair skin of her thighs), and a fore finger and thumb instinctively rubbing against one another were more than enough clues to solve the mystery as to what _his_ thoughts on their delay were.

Yet the man, it seemed, was getting more work done than she was. Whilst the blonde sat distracted by seemingly every factor of the stranger, the stranger’s hands ( _oh, those hands_ ) were far too preoccupied to allow distractions such as bordering-on-creepy people watching.

_Preoccupied with the keyboard. Nothing dirty going on in this Starbucks._

Felicity was not a bitter person. But she was bored, and tired, and uncomfortable, and no where near in the right state of mind to try and persuade the board to fund the Applied Sciences division’s latest project. She also was more than capable of using her special skill set to access the man’s private network (was that illegal or just morally conflicting?) and see that his AirDrop was on.

And Felicity was most definitely a person who liked to have undetectable, anonymous fun.

**Blocked IP Address**

will you go out with me ; )

↣

If Oliver was not better at concealing his emotions, he would certainly have let out a grunt of frustration when a blank word document opened up on his laptop screen, obscuring his view from the emails he was replying to (mostly because those replies were way overdue, try as he might to erase the past stereotypes made on his person). But as collected with reactions as he was, an involuntary noise -- a guffaw, choke, and chuckle of amusement and surprise -- did escape when the image and six words occupying the document loaded after a minimal delay.

Ollie was not inexperienced when it came to girls using, to put it kindly, interesting methods to gain his attention in his days in the spotlight; he had locks of hair sent to his door; fake pregnancies released to the media in attempts to tie him down; stalkers camping outside of the mansion; even Laurel, regretfully, had been drawn into the mess with her becoming a target of death threats.

But in all his years of being Ollie, whether it was a genuine act or not, Oliver had never had someone access the Bluetooth feature of his laptop in order to send, quite frankly, the weirdest form of flirtation he had ever seen.

_Was it bad that under circumstances where he knew more about the sender, it may have worked?_

Perhaps it was the weariness of being stuck in an unknown area when all he wanted was to be back home, or the boredom he felt answering emails whilst Thea took advantage of the shops in the airport. Maybe it even had something to do with the fun encounter with a Pilot of seat 23H that lead to a wider appreciation of the relaxation that comes with the anonymity of telecommunications. Whatever it was, before he could even question his actions, Oliver had shut down the tab containing his emails, focusing instead on the word document of a blocked IP address.

 **161.183.237.223**  
That depends

 **Blocked IP Address**  
on?

 **161.183.237.223**  
1) Are you a child? I am not interested in further delaying my journey by being arrested  
2) Speaking of identities, who are you? I assume you can see me  
3) Are you a criminal, because blocking your IP address certainly raises some questions

 **Blocked IP Address**  
1) don’t worry, i’m not a small child - just an incredibly bored adult  
2) well where’s the fun in this if i solve that mystery for you?  
3) maybe a girl just wants to be a little mysterious

 **161.183.237.223**  
1) I am extremely relieved - though should I be offended that you’re using me for your boredom?  
2) I wasn’t aware that this was a game - but I warn you, I came here to win, not to make friends :)  
3) I’m sure you’re plenty interesting without the mystery element

 **Blocked IP Address**  
1) i think you should feel honoured : )  
2) game on  
3) true - some might even say i’m remarkable

With the last reply, Oliver stopped himself from quickly typing a retort back, instead allowing himself to ponder for a moment. Was it just a mere coincidence that this mystery girl happened to use similar phrases to those he sent to the girl in 23H a trip across the Atlantic ago? Even the uncommon space between the components of her smiley faces seemed too familiar for there to not be a connection, not to mention the easy communication the two seemed to have that was a rare element, especially amongst strangers, in Oliver’s life.

Or perhaps the airport was making him irrational - Oliver didn't usually analyse the way someone used emoticons, after all.

Before he could find a way to confirm his suspicions, or even search the Starbucks for a cute but frazzled blonde, an announcement called all passengers of his flight for boarding, and the laptop was packed away in order to begin a quest of finding Thea - but not before Oliver made a mental note to ensure that once the plane was up in the air once more, he would take a visit to seat 23H and put an end to the mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[ find me on tumblr under the name nyssaalgayul !! ]]


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m so sorry about how much longer it took for this chapter to be posted :( my poor laptop was getting repaired buuut it’s here now yAya
> 
> there’s not much actual communication between o&f in this (and actual speech?! shock horror!!) but all this needed to be written to allow for more chapters so hope you enjoy, and thanks to everyone who has liked and commented -- it makes me v happy :-)

Felicity Smoak was as reasonable as she was an underappreciated genius. Every night when her mother worked late shifts, although the resentment began to grow in her teen years, she still made sure she didn’t lash out too much, because her mother was merely doing what would get them by; when Yolinda Sheresh got too enthusiastic on the playground and broke her brand new glasses, she didn’t get mad, because it was just an accident and nothing tape couldn’t fix; when her then-boyfriend Nasim stood her up because his ex-girlfriend had some car trouble, she took it with a pinch of salt, because she would later learn that your first love will contradict your mind and always come first in your heart; and, when the middle-aged man in the seat next to her asked her to swap places with an old friend he bumped into, despite him not even using basic manners, she saved herself any fuss (and any more awkward accidental eye contact with said man) by moving her things from 23H to a couple of rows behind.

(Though there was that one time that a boy at MIT was a sexist pig however - and maybe the reasonable thing to do would have been to educate him, but she had black hair at the time and therefore believed allowing her fist to educate his face was absolutely just as reasonable as any other Felicity-esque response.)

Never did it enter her mind that when she left 23H, she also left the legacy of the Pilot behind also - and therefore any way to know if 23J would try and contact her again. Mostly because she didn’t believe that to be a reasonable plausibility - they did, after all, admit to each other that they were just distractions, and therefore he likely had no interest in re-engaging in their strange game. She also, admittedly, didn’t think to head straight to OQ’s seat either - there was a myriad of causes for that, the most reasonable being that she wasn’t entirely certain of his seat number and didn’t want to embarrass herself by harassing a stranger, and the least reasonable being that she was recovering from a slightly traumatic experience where her phone almost fell from her back pocket into the (freaking terrifying) aeroplane toilets and _oh Jarvis, please forgive that sin_.

Thus, with no prospect of anonymous communication in the remaining three hours of her flight home, Felicity curled up in her new seat as comfortably as one could under the cramped circumstances, and tucked her nose into the novel she had picked up from the newsagent back in London - and soon, a distraction was delivered; one that wasn’t quite as amusing as OQ was, but would do.

↣

After a series of calculations based on sensibility and rationality, Oliver waited precisely twenty minutes after the seat-belt sign was turned off by the pilot to open up the chat room he had made for 23H over five hours earlier.

Admittedly, it would have been sooner, were he not deterred by the fact that Thea would, for certain, look over his shoulder and document every message for future teasing ammunition - as any little sister would (something she had already taken advantage of earlier when, in her words, he ‘forced her to spy on a poor, unsuspecting maiden’ and continued to talk to her even when the plane was making an unscheduled descent - a mockery he wasn't sure was worth the description he gained).

If Oliver were not a reasonable man, he might have called it fate that twenty minutes into cruising, Thea fell asleep, her head lolling onto his shoulder as if he were a teenager and her a child once more, and she exhausted herself whilst they watched a movie strictly prohibited as ‘inappropriate’ by their parents - but Oliver was a reasonable man, so instead he called it good luck, and began to type.

 **OQ || 23J says**  
I have to ask -- are you the same person who sent me a picture of a dog in the airport earlier?  
You were too familiar for me to not suspect.  


**Pilot || 23H says**  
I’m sorry, I’m not sure who or what this is.

**Pilot || 23H has left the chat room**

Oliver knew it was unreasonable to feel like he’d been stood up on a date he had been looking forward to for longer than he would care to admit - but with a click of a button, someone had shot an arrow through his heart, and all sense aside, he felt exactly that.

↣

When Thea was growing up, she doted on her little brother. Any moment not spent with him - be it holding his hand or biting his leg or sitting on his lap or pulling his hair - was not a moment that toddler Thea spent quietly; and soon, the Queen parents learnt that the best way to soothe their screaming baby was to place her in the same room as her favourite person, and thus Thea got what she wanted.

Where Oliver went, so did the new addition to the family - much to his personal distaste. Tommy soon learnt to love her like a sister, but only because he had no choice when she began to latch onto him as she had done to his best friend; she was present at most hockey matches as he was present at ballet recitals, and Moira, ever the intellect, also noticed Oliver's (perhaps unknown) desire to present himself in a positive light to his sister - especially at a time when the media managed to do exactly the opposite to his reputation - and thus would send her into his room when she knew Oliver had brought a girl in there, in order to control her son's activities to the best of her capability.

Thea loved her brother, and was grateful that through all the woes she may have brought the child who was used to being the only one his parents doted on for years, he loved her too. But in the moment when said brother shook her awake to ask a question she is sure no little sister on the planet has ever been asked (twice) before, she began to rethink the image of him built in her head.

↣

Though the novel had all the makings of a book she would read cover to cover in hours instead of days (it was a murder mystery, after all, and there was no power on earth which could stop her from finishing it merely to solve the problem presented in the first chapter), Felicity began to find other distractions on the plane.

It started with the woman next to her who was wearing an MIT sweatshirt - after beginning a conversation with the woman (whose name she never actually received, which was strange) it became evident that it was the stranger’s girlfriend who actually attended the school, and so the conversation slowed until it stopped, allowing the two to go back to their own business, though with a tad more comfort of familiarity between their seats.

Then came the air hostess who apologised for giving her a packet of death (or, as they were to the rest of the passengers, peanuts) and complimented her highlights - a history of her hairdressing experience was given in concise a way as possible, before Rahael (for this time she did get a name) made her way to the rest of the passengers.

The distractions ended - or more accurately, developed to a point of no return - when she decided to give into her curious nature and casually (and not creepily, she would defend) listen in to the conversation between the man and younger woman in the seats in front of her; their flight for the most part was sounding more interesting than hers was, after all, and so who could really blame herself for indulging in it?

She regretted that thought later, however, for when entirely unexpected events began to unfold, she could only blame herself.

↣

Oliver knew he would regret waking Thea up after she didn’t sleep at all on the first portion of the red-eye flight; he especially knew it when her eyes snapped open, glaring with a hatred that only the Queen women had a talent for mustering. In other circumstances, he would have been more wary, and certainly would have made the smarter choice of allowing her to slumber - but he needed his sister, and in the midst of a confusing situation, definitely needed her awake.

In hindsight, there were over two hours of the flight left - he didn’t need to wake her up at that exact moment; something that Thea was more than happy to remind him in a voice that was sharp despite the tiredness behind the words. He even began to feel guilty after explaining what he needed her for, realising it wasn't as important as he had built it up in his own mind to be - that was, before she began to laugh at his plea (at his _struggle_ ), allowing for any guilt to reside and a certain sibling indignance to replace it.

“You’re telling me that- I’m sorry, I can’t stop laughing. Oh god I’m crying. My mascara is going to run and now when I go to spy on that girl - for the _second time_ , don't forget - she’s going to see a sobbing mess instead of _appreciating_ her new sister-in-law.”

“Thea, I just want to know if it’s still the same person. And I can’t risk her seeing me if it _is_ because if I’m right she knows what I look like because-”

“-Because she asked you out via AirDrop with a picture of a dog, I know. Oh my _God,_ I love my new sister-in-law. I love her already and you have my blessing and I know we’re going to be best friends. She’s fucking hilarious.”

Before Oliver had time to protest the new title for the stranger (Thea had a tendency to exaggerate, and she definitely was not holding back in her sleepy state), or corroborate the fact that 23H was, in fact, hilarious, Thea had left her seat and was making her way forwards towards the seat she had (he hoped conspicuously) walked by previously to ensure her brother was not messaging a child.

It was with that thought that Oliver realised that aeroplane encounters - _especially_ anonymous ones - were fucking weird; and when Thea gestured to him a thumbs down sign from several seats ahead, he decided that next time he was needed in London, he would just take the private jet after all.

↣

Felicity was a reasonable person. So when, through trained eavesdropping and scooting forward on her seat to read the messages on the screen of the man in front of her, she discovered that not only were 23J and Starbucks Guy the same person (which was not reasonable in and of itself because as a Vegas girl, statistics were her thing, and those odds were _definitely_ not high) but that that person was one Extremely Hot Being (just as good from the back as he was from the front - and _damn_ did she hope she didn’t say that out loud), Felicity vowed to never reveal her identity as 23H and Weird Starbucks Girl - a connection he figured out somehow, which only added to his already _extremely_ _high_ attractiveness. If she couldn’t form a thought that wasn’t a sentence fragment when just sitting in his vicinity -- not to mention she already slightly fucked herself over by having _anonymous_ _fun_ _with_ _his_ _AirDrop_ _because seriously, who does that_ \-- then there was no way she could stand a conversation with him in real life.

Because this was real life. It was an absurd situation, made absurder by the fact that he was actively looking for her and therefore wasn’t weirded out by the way she presented herself (or wanted to merely confront her about how weird the way she presented herself was) and planes were a _strange place where strange things happen_. But it _was_ real life. Thus sensibility replaced want, against all protests of the heart, and Felicity returned to her novel.

But just as 23J seemed put out by the fact that she wasn’t in the seat Pilot was in beforehand, her eyes were unable to focus on anything but the material of the seat separating them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here are some quotes from my draft of this chapter which I thought were amusing enough to share (because I’m a narcissist):
> 
> \- Felicity is like aight...heart broken but aight  
> \- Cue violin music bc oliver’s great love forgot him !!!  
> \- She’s like omg...that’s 23J...my one true love...omg the back of his head is beautiful  
> \- Thea returns and is like ‘cute but frazzled blonde aka future sister in law has morphed into a middle aged redhead i am afraid’
> 
> also, I am english, and just typing the word 'freaking' instead of 'bloody' felt sooo innately wrong
> 
> [[ find me on tumblr under the name nysssaalgayul !! ]]


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and reviewing this ! I'm also very sorry about the complete lack of scheduling I have on this; honestly, this was supposed to be a one shot, and I have absolutely no idea where this is going, hence the long intervals. And the next chapter probably won't be for a while (I have to CAMP without WIFI help ME) so hopefully this will be enough until then!! As always, hope you enjoy :)

“Stop pouting, Ollie. This is literally your fault.”

It was certainly not the first time such a phrase had left Thea’s lips. It had, however, been a while. Long gone were the days when she would find her older brother sulking after being grounded, or being dumped, or the countless other shenanigans he used to get into. But then again, Ollie was long gone also (though as long as her nickname lived, that one would too.)

“How does someone just disappear on a _plane_ , Speedy?”

Thea rolled her eyes; half because _Speedy is a nickname for a three year old_ and partly because only her brother would get hung up on a girl he hadn’t even seen. She stood up in front of her seat, making a ceremonious circle whilst looking at the faces around her (who, in turn, were looking incredulously back) intending to make a stubborn point to her brother that _there was nothing he could do_ , when her eyes made contact with a pair of wide, blue eyes -- belonging to none other than a cute, but frazzled (and now rather alarmed) blonde.

If she weren’t on a plane and already gaining judgeful glances, she would have likely jumped up and down in joy -- instead she opted for hitting her brother on the arm, about to yell about the fact that _the love of his life was right behind him this whole time_ ; but she was stopped in her tracks by the woman herself. The girl shook her head so fervently that Thea couldn’t help but take notice, even in her ecstatic state, and began to mouth ‘no, no, no!’ repeatedly, only seeming to calm when Thea sat down once more.

Staying silent went against her very nature, but Thea respected her future-sister-in-law (and was having too much fun for the ridiculous predicament to end so soon) and so instead went down the route of her elder sibling: she logged onto the in-flight communication system.

↣

When Felicity’s console vibrated, her heart filled with dread -- an entirely opposite reaction than what was provoked by the same sound on the first portion of the flight. Before she knew that 23J was hot. Before she sent a dog meme to Hot 23J.

She almost didn’t answer it; she so almost was able to restrain herself. But the unseen message was a mystery and Felicity would damn well solve it before the plane's wheels touched down in Starling.

**24J || TQ has invited you to a private chatroom**

**24J || TQ says**  
Why not?!?!?!?!?  
He likes you.

 **23K || FS says**  
he doesn’t know me  
he is an incredibly attractive stranger who doesn’t know me  
oh god i just said that to his sister  
or typed

 **24J || TQ says**  
Wow, he wasn’t kidding about the babbling thing.  
(Which, he thinks is cute.)

 **23K || FS says**  
his sister TQ  
he is OQ

 **24J || TQ says**  
???

 **23K || FS says**  
he is incredibly attractive and strangely familiar

Felicity dropped the console, a gasp escaping her brightly painted lips because--

“-- _holy fucking frack, he’s Oliver Queen_?!”

Immediately after her outburst (her outburst which was meant to be _in her head and not out loud, dammit_ ) Felicity’s hands clamped over her mouth in horror as the majority of the plane snapped their heads towards her -- most glaring, which was fair, because this was a night flight and she likely rudely awakened most of them, with inappropriate language to make it worse.

There was laughter coming from Thea Queen’s ( _Thea fucking Queen’s_ ) seat; her laughter was what made Felicity notice that one head had yet to turn towards her. Before he got the chance, Felicity unbuckled her seatbelt, deeming the situation dire enough to take such a chance, and practically ran towards the other end of the cabin, thankful for the emptiness of one of the bathrooms, promptly locking herself inside.

After what had happened, the aeroplane toilets didn’t seem so terrifying anymore.

↣

Oliver was practically frozen in his seat from the moment he heard his name escape a stranger’s voice behind him.

(A beautiful voice -- a voice he wanted to hear more of, throughout the rest of the night and into the morning until they had no more stories left to tell.)

A voice belonging to a stranger with an amazing sense of humour and a remarkability that made him smile even in an uncomfortable situation. A stranger who now knew who he was.

By the time he had managed to snap out of his stupor, all he managed to see was a figure with a blonde ponytail rushing past him -- and once more, the Pilot managed to crush his hopes without making a single sound.

Was it illogical for him to have built up such an image of her? To imagine them having just as light and fun conversations in person? To dream towards having someone in his life that made him smile with such a genuinity that seemed harder to find in his life as the days went past?

The answer, of course, was yes. Because she was only a stranger; she had no capabilities of making him anymore whole than any other passenger on the plane. And now she knew who he really was -- and perhaps that was the worse thing of all, because after figuring it out (how she did that would be less of a mystery were she not a self-proclaimed genius), she had ran.

And that meant she was familiar -- perhaps intimately familiar and _oh God, had Ollie known her?_ \-- of his reputation. It was a reputation he was working hard to escape; a task he was truly succeeding at. But 23H didn’t know that. To her he was just some jackass rich kid.

To him she was a new kind of optimism that he wanted to taste once more.

When 23H hadn’t returned after at least two minutes, Oliver did what perhaps he should have done before the plane left English dirt -- he called over an air hostess, mentioned his family name, and had himself and Thea upgraded to first class, thereby saving the blonde from facing further embarrassment or inability to avoid him once she inevitably returned, and causing the 23J she had interacted with to be no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[ find me on tumblr under the name nyssaalgayul !! ]]


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. I'm hoping that that apology will suffice, but lbr, no apology will suffice my complete abandonment of this. I lost my muse for it and only just got it back (I also didn't check this chapter over seven times, which I usually do, so I'm sorry for any likely mistakes!) and wanted to conclude this story instead of leaving you guys hanging. So yes, this is the last chapter of my one-shot-turned-shitshow, and I can't thank you all enough for coming along for the ride. To make up for the long wait, I made this chapter significantly longer than any other (the least you babes deserve), and I honestly didn't intend for it to end the way it did, but I hope you like it anyway! As always, likes and comments are much appreciated -- but mostly, I hope you enjoy the end to my first Olicity story.

From the moment she returned to a seat with an empty row in front of it and the pitying eyes of strangers, Felicity began to regret ever going to London in the first place. So much struggle and embarrassment (and possibly heartache?) just for a job interview for the London Palmer Tech offices suddenly seemed to pointless, especially when she had countless other job offers in places that weren’t Boston or Vegas but still sufficiently far away from home and the mundane.

Jobs that would serve as stepping stones for her to open her own company and become Felicity Smoak: strong female CEO, making the world a better place one product at a time.

With Oliver Queen’s smile turning into a frown before her eyes, stepping stones didn’t seem so important.

Especially now she was stuck in baggage claim, without any baggage to claim.

 **Sara Lance [19:07]  
** I’m here to pick up ur sorry ass i s2g if ur not out in 20 mins i am going home to my VERY HOT and VERY NAKED girlf pls hurry

 **Felicity Smoak [19:08]  
** get your horny head in the game,, i am in DISTRESS

Felicity loved Sara -- she loved Nyssa too. She loved them together and was usually extremely happy for them, and an advocate if any for their healthy sex life. But _usually_ Felicity hadn’t endured the Plane Journey From Hell (Ft. Hot Boy and Hot Mess), and had an attitude that matched the bright colours she wore a lot more.

When Sara didn’t text back within another two minutes -- frack, if she went home Felicity was going to have to fork out for a taxi, lest she actually bother Diggle on his day off -- Felicity sighed, flopping herself down onto the chairs she knew were behind her (she knew that because she had been _standing in the same fricking spot for the last half an hour because the airports heard she didn’t approve of people in the sky and clearly took offence),_ resigning to the fact that she could do nothing but wait and be bitter about her friends amazing sex life and her lack of anything.

Which would have been a fine plan and all, were there to not be a (very solid -- so, so solid) body already on that very seat.

  
**↣**

Oliver didn’t know how to react when his blonde ( _his_ blonde? He must be tired) started backing towards him -- or, more accurately, his seat. Did he alert her of his presence? Should he move over? She looked so tired, head bent over and shoulders slumped in an unannounced defeat that made his heartache and--

Perhaps had he not been over analysing the situation, Felicity wouldn’t be sitting on his lap right now -- because this stranger, this stranger who apparently had such a bad image of him she had to run to the aeroplane bathroom, should not be anyway near him right now. No matter how good she felt, no matter how his hands twitched to instinctively grip her hips, no matter how good her pony tail smelt in his face.

He must be tired.

As quick as it occurred, it was over, and the sudden empty feeling he had at the loss of weight on top of him was accompanied by a surprised (and surprisingly cute) yelp, as 23H jumped off of him as if skin burnt. A flush crept over her cheeks and _God did he want to know how much the rest of her skin flushed_ and perfect teeth bit her perfectly painted bottom lip and was she trying to kill him? She must be trying to kill him.

He was never flying commercial again.

Oliver knew exactly what he would have said in a past life -- a cheap one liner, intended to cause darkened irises and the exact blush 23H was sporting herself. He would have used his words to work his way into her bed (or the nearest hotels bed) and once he was done, he’d pay the bill and never think of her again. But Oliver _wasn’t_ Ollie -- Oliver thought about what 23H’s life was like just as much as he thought about the softness of her lips or her skin: he wanted to know her just as much as he wanted to explore her, and considering he had never even _spoken_ to this girl, that was a scary thought.

He wasn’t Ollie. Not anymore. It was more important for him to prove that now; now more than before.

 **_“_ ** I’m really sorry about before. **_”_ **

**↣**

**“** I’m really sorry about before-- **”**

 **“** \--holy frack. Frack. I’m so sorry I did that. I can’t believe I did that. I need to leave right now. I don’t need my luggage. Just my clothes and toiletries; I mean, I already have my laptop with me, I can just leave. Then Sara can have her naked girlfriend and I can eat all the ice cream and watch all the X-Files and I can forget all of this… **”**

Felicity only trailed off when she saw Oliver’s face (and why did thinking of him with a name to the face bring such a warm, content feeling to her stomach?) -- a concoction of amusement and genuine _relief_ was clearly painted across his features for all to see (all, of course, meaning just them, since they were the only ones still at the baggage claim).

 **“** _And_ I said all of that out loud. I’m so sorry. You won’t have to see me after this and you can hopefully forget about the actual Human Disaster who ruined your flight. **”**

Because Felicity was smart -- like, genius-type smart, thanks very much -- she knew she had to be imagining the fall of the _gorgeous_ smile on Oliver’s face at the mention of their soon and inevitable departure from one another’s lives. Obviously, a man (a freaking God of a man) wouldn’t be deflated at the idea of not seeing the woman who not only harassed him via aeroplane communication and Apple AirDrop, but also then publicly disgraced him to such an extent that he felt it necessary to move seats (likely to First Class because he was an _actual billionaire, what the fuck_ ) effective immediately. Hell, Felicity herself wouldn’t want to sit near her after the little _Oliver Queen Fuck Me_ outburst she had. Frack, she really needed to apologise for that.

 **“** I guess it’s good I sat on you, **”** she started, clearly going too slow because that prompted a perfectly angled eyebrow-quirk from the other along with the hint of a smirk and _was he really so attractive that she couldn’t form a single sentence without accidentally coming on to the poor man?_

The answer of course, was yes. Yes he was.

 **“** Because it means I can apologise! Obviously. No other reason. Not that you aren’t a great seat because you’re surprising comfortable for someone who is all muscles and no squish and -- one, two three. Okay. You’re laughing but that’s okay, I need to say this. I’m really sorry for yelling out your name and then running away. Also the whole dog picture and pilot thing, but mostly the former. I just, you know -- I don’t live in your city yet but I’ve heard of you obviously, so-- **”**

Her lips went from speaking (albeit not speaking quite as eloquently as she had hoped) to forming a small oh-shape when one of Oliver’s hands placed itself gently on her shoulder. There weren’t many things that could stun the blonde into silence, but the static electricity that seemed to run through her and fry her wiring certainly worked, because suddenly she forgot entirely what she was meant to be saying with her currently not-moving lips.

Luckily, Oliver picked up her train of thought for her.

 **“** You don’t need to apologise. I understand. You’ve seen the tabloids, who hasn’t, **”** Oliver spoke, his voice having the ability to cause her knees to weaken if it weren’t for the words he was actually saying to cause her to frown. **“** I wasn’t a good person. I guess it doesn’t matter much to say I’ve changed. You did the right thing by running. **”**

He had an enticing scruff and arms she couldn’t grip wholly and the tightest abs she’d seen on someone other than a Hollister model and blue eyes bright with experience -- but with the small crinkle on his forehead, tilt of his gaze downwards, and hands scratching the back of his neck in a shameful manner, Oliver somehow looked younger. More vulnerable.

Felicity had an overwhelming need and desire to help a stranger in ways she didn’t even know how. She started by forcing her voice to work again (whilst pretending not to feel slightly empty at the loss of contact with Oliver’s hand now it was gone).

 **“** That’s not why I ran, Oliver. I meant I know who you are -- know how successful and charitable and hot and smart you are. I mean, your company thriving when you’re the one pushing it forward is enough to tell me all of that. And I’m just -- _not_ all of that. **”** Her last words were accompanied by an extravagant hand gesture, circling Oliver’s _middle area place_ with her hands before making a movement she could only refer to as ‘confused jazz hands’. **“** So I ran. Which was a mistake because aeroplane bathrooms are terrifying. And then you weren’t there when I got back, so I obviously offended you -- which was why I apologised. **”**

With the finality of her sentence, an uncomfortable silence dawned upon the two, and Felicity knew if Oliver didn’t say something soon she’d start rambling or running again.

She didn’t have time for either, however, for a perfectly bowed set of lips were on hers and she couldn’t think of anything else _._

**↣**

Oliver hadn’t meant to kiss her -- hell, he didn't even know her name (though he somehow knew it would be as bright as her eyes). He’d been thinking of everything but. He’d been thinking of how she said _yet_ when she mentioned how she didn’t live in Starling City, and how that sparked interest, intrigue and excitement all at once in him -- the mere prospect of the beautiful, rambling genius living in his near vicinity already enough to drive him crazy.

He’d been thinking about how she called him _smart and charitable and successful_ \-- how someone who clearly knew about Queen Consolidated enough could overlook his past failures to focus on his ventures in the now instead: someone who looked at Oliver and didn’t see a hint of Ollie behind his demeanour. (And, okay, maybe he also thought about how she called him hot and how much he wished he could say the same to her face -- once she stopped talking of course, because he was enjoying the sweet sound of her voice far too much to interrupt the cute rambles he had only seen on a text screen prior.)

He’d been thinking about how oblivious she was to the fact that she -- an intelligent and funny and caring and stunning stranger who somehow grasped his attention and wouldn’t let go -- was too enough to make him run; but also something that made him want to plant himself like a tree and stay. As long as she was there.

_He must be tired._

But then his lips were on hers, an effort delivered with the craning of his neck because she was a perfect mixture wrapped up into a small frame and then there were very _different_ things he thought about.

He thought about the surprised noise she made in his mouth, a noise which sent goosebumps down the back of his neck and made him pull her flush.

He obsessed over the feeling of her fingers in his hair, precariously painted nails scraping down the back of his head in a way he didn’t think he’d ever recover from.

He groaned at the warmth of her mouth as they parted their lips for one another, becoming closer in a sense far too out of place in an empty baggage claim in an airport he swore to never step foot in again.

He sighed into her mouth when she placed her hand against his stomach, moving it around to his hip and gripping as tightly as he wanted to do when she sat on his lap before.

He begged for more time with her when she gasped at the feeling of his hands -- warm and broad -- against her cool, slender shoulder, thumb slipping under the strap of her top to ensure she was feeling all of the same sensations he was.

If the slight pressing of her hips against his were anything to go by, he didn’t have to worry about that.

Oliver could kiss her forever. He really could and he really wanted to. But he was going to do this right.

**↣**

Felicity was a reasonable girl -- so reasonable that she definitely did _not_ pout when Oliver pulled away from her (though, much to her relief, kept a hand on her shoulder and the other temptingly on her hip), and there was no one around to say otherwise so _ha, she was reasonable and not pouting._

Except Oliver was grinning and his bottom lip was slightly swollen from where she’d admittedly pulled it between her teeth one too many times and how long were they kissing for? Not long enough. Now she probably was pouting.

Before she could ask _why_ their lips weren’t on each other’s _right now_ Oliver removed his hand from her hip and held it out to her, eyebrows raised expectantly and smile calmer, though just as genuine (and perhaps even hopeful).

 **“** I’m Oliver Queen. It’s nice to meet you officially. **”**

Felicity forgave him for their separation all at once.

 **“** Felicity Smoak. Creator of bad pilot jokes, sender of strange dog pictures, and owner of regrets. It’s good to meet you too. **”**

 **“** You know, we should really talk one time. **”**

 **“** You mean in real life instead of over a chatroom like two thirteen year olds? **”**

 **“** Exactly. **”**

 **“** You want to get something to eat, 23J? **”**

 **“** Lead the way, Pilot. **”**

**↣**

**Speedy Queen  
** **[19:28]** Ollie where the hell are you??? I told you to wait while I got coffee???  
**[19:30]** Ah never mind!!! Just saw you running of with a cute but frazzled blonde ;) I’m so happy for you!!  
**[19:42]** Roy's picking me up. Don’t forget to bring me my case later bro  
**[19:43]** And by later I mean tomorrow because you better give Cute Girl the best night of her life after all the trouble you put her through  
**[20:00]** How does she feel about me being your wedding planner btw? Because I’ve already planned my speech and not to give anything away but it involves this story and like two dirty jokes and it’s fucking amazing

 **Ollie Queen  
** **[20:30]** Kind of busy right now, Speedy

 **Speedy Queen  
** **[20:32]** :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

**↣**

_The End._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you @ tumblr for the post about the pilot thingy which made me go 'felicity would so do that' because, for some strange reason, other people liked that idea as well and actually read five chapters of the weirdest - but, tbh, most enjoyable to write - thing i've ever written. thank you @ the people who commented on the first chapter to encourage me to continue the story, and everyone who has commented since. I love you all, and hope this won't be the last fic you stick with me on. I hope you enjoyed <3 xx
> 
> [[ find me on tumblr @ nyssaalgayul.tumblr.com !! ]]

**Author's Note:**

> [ find me on tumblr under the name nyssaalgayul !! ]


End file.
